Doom Upon Your Breeches!
by NeonZangetsu
Summary: The tale of a snarky, outgoing writer who is suddenly thrust into Thedas, and the events of the Inquisition. Getting hit by a truck, strange new powers, eternal peril, falling in love...what could possibly go wrong? Besides loosing all your breeches, that is. Self insert. TONS of humor. Pairing undecided! Be sure to vote! Inspired by Hypermuffins "Misadventures in Another World!"
1. Rift

**A/N: Alright...!**

 **We, my dear readers, need to talk. I've been away from the writing scene for a good while now, and I've been thinking. NO I am not quitting. Don't worry about that. But I have been thinking, and in that vein I wanted to try something...new, I guess? Anyhow, this was born from that.**

 **I'm trying a TENTATIVE self insert based on a rather painful event I was just in. Still alive, though!**

 **Anywho! I've played all the way through Inquisition, beaten all of the DLC and I'm psyched for the next game. Trespasser was a fine way to end things, and it gave me a TON of ideas as to what I can do with this story, as well as the SHOCK I got at the end with Fen'harel. Did. Not. See. That. Coming. It's also let me to be a bit divided on the matter, too. I mean, I can understand the desire to help your people, but what about everybody else?**

 **Ah, sod, I dunno. Too much to think about there. Anywho, I'm hoping to write a somewhat happier ending with MY Inquisitor involved in the events of Dragon Age.**

 **I also kindly ask you to see that the Inquistor and Sera are incorrigible TROUBLEMAKERS in this! They're gonna get into all kinds of chaos! And the title? Well, that's simple. I think that it suits the mood of this story quite well, so much so in fact, that it just DEMANDED to be written. Thank you all for the suggestions and by all means keep 'em coming! I'm more than willing to listen!**

 **And for the few who may or may not happy about Sera being in this, well, sorry, she is. I'm sorry if that upsets a few of you, but she's key to this story. In addendum, she's not going to be QUITE as ignorant towards magic and such as the story paints her out to be. In time she'll be willing to try an' see things differently...the key word being time..**

 **Not sure about the pairing, honestly. InquisitorxSera? InquisitorxBull? OCxCassandra? OcxJosephine? Maybe something else, even! BE SURE TO VOTE! I'm more than open to suggestion, but its gonna be one wild ride regardless! Aye, and the Inquistor's name is a deliberate pun, one a certain elf is going to take no end of amusement from...**

 **...DOOM UPON YOUR BREECHES!**

 **Sorry if its short! I'm going for a little "surprise" vice in this first chapter here, but future chapters will be much, much, MUCH LONGER! I'm also planning a few other pure "Dragon Age" fics in the future as well, depending on whether ya'll like this one...**

 _"It's all good, innit?"_

 _~Serah._

 **Breeches**

 _Have you ever been hit by a truck?_

Its not a pleasant experience, let me tell you. Brief. Painful. Bones breaking as cold, unfeeling steel hits you. Hurls you to the ground. You'd think it'd be a quick death, no? By all means it should be; getting slammed by a drunk driver, clocking sixty while crossing the street. At least I think he was drunk. Hard to remember nowadays, after all that happened. To be fair, I THINK the bastard might have swerved a bit before he hit me, but I'm not sure. Memory gets a bit fuzzy now, thinkin' about it. I mean, that shit was RECENT but I can still barely get the details down.

Creepy.

Wait, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. I mean, I can't be giving spoilers right out the gate now, can I?

So, I say again, yeah...a truck.

Nothing overly dramatic about it; I wasn't trying to save anyone, I didn't throw myself in front of a speeding vehicle to save a life or anything. Pathetic, right? I was on my way to college and morning class to be precise-determined to ignore that stubborn, assinine math professor. I suppose it was my own fault, really; wasn't paying attention, when I crossed the street. Too caught up in my own thoughts. Wondering how I was going to pay my bills, pondering what kind of story I was going to write next.

See, I'd been in a bit of a funk lately, unable to write after mangling my last work, and I felt awful for it. So there I was, idly munching on one of my roommate's freshly baked brownies. Say what you will about the slob but she does make some damn good sweets when she isn't off getting high. Speaking of high, it was, in fact, that very moment when it happened.

One minute I was walking across the street, hoping I wasn't eating some sort of pot brownie.

 _HONK!_

Then I heard a horn.

The next...

...I was road pizza.

Right?

 _Nope._

* * *

 _(Meanwhile, a world away...)_

* * *

 _"UNHAND MY MY BREECHES!"_

Sarah Adaar, the Herald of Andraste, nearly toppled out of her bed at Cassandra's shout, righting herself with only a supreme effort. The Seeker's furious howl reverberated through the halls of the Chantry and out into Haven with fiery aplomb, ripping through the relative silence of the cloister as if it were made of wet papers Ordinarily, she might have ignored such nonsense, but the she knew the demented giggle that followed all too well, just as she knew that the conflict wouldn't likely be resolved unless someone _-her!-_ did something about it.

Sighing, she pushed a strand of ebon hair out of her face and began to count quietly to herself as she continued her reading. She was just getting to the good part about the Knight-Captain, too! Maybe if she pretended it wasn't happening, they'd go away...

One.

Two.

Three.

 _Knock-knock-knock._

...damnit.

Adaar groaned, a green eye swinging away from the open book and sliding towards the door. If looks could kill...

"Who is it?"

"Uh, heeeeeey, ah, boss?" The muffled timbre of Iron Bull's drawling voice greeted her through the door, faint tones of amusement trickling through the wooden barrier between them, shaking the wooden door. "Sera's at it again. Might want to do something before the Lady Seeker chops off her head."

"That bad?" the ghost of a smile played at her lips, imagining the stoic seeker trying to tackle their resident rogue. Less than a week in Haven, and she'd already become something of a terror in her own right. Good on her, but did it HAVE to be during her reading time? Part of her recalled their words of their newest recruit only days before, that silly cheeky grin:

 _"You're well fit..._

A muted laugh greeted her accompanied by a demented snigger, interrupted the daydream.

"Boom! Pie in the _face!"_

Bull laughed.

 _"That_ bad."

"Ugh...fine." The qunari warrior cast one last, longing look at her unfinished copy of Swords and Shields-neatly tucked away atop her pillow-beckoning invitingly, calling her back to bed. Hmm. It would be _ohhh_ so easy to ignore this morning ruckus and just roll back into bed, forget about it. But no, she was up and out of bed now, there was no point in going back, no matter how warm the covers might be.

"Boss? You in there?"

Sarah lingered a moment longer before giving up the ghost.

 _"Damnit."_

"C'mon, sleepyhead!"

"Coming!" Donning her leather armor and ducking through the door-they really had to work on making them larger-she grabbed the handle and swung it open...and immediately regretted that decision. Shit! Piss! Fuck! Andraste's great flaming ass! All at once the bitter chill of Haven assaulted her, drawing a flush to her grey cheeks, a chilly breeze sending her dark hair flying into her face. Haircut, she reminded herself, idly massaging the polished tip of a horn with her off hand. Another item on her ever-increasing agenda once they secured the templar/mage's aid. So much to do, so much to do...

"Hello, dear." To her infinite disbelief, _Vivienne_ was also there to greet her as she emerged, though her dark face puckered slightly as he beheld the Herald in full armor. "Expecting trouble?"

"Can't hurt to be safe, right?" She shrugged, rolling her thick shoulders with an audible clank, "Bull, where are they?"

The hulking warrior tilted his horns towards the entrance. "By the gate."

"Good." She took one step outside her cabin-

 _ **BOOM.**_

The blast struck almost precisely at the second step, an abrupt flare of green and white light plummeting from the heavens to splinter the ground, the shockwave hurling her backwards into the Iron Bull. A grunt rose from the larger qunari as he caught her, large arms securing her shoulders, steadying them both against the storm. Over the rush of wind and fire, she thought she heard a shout, saw Vivienne raise a hand. The faint shimmer of a barrier flickered to life between them and flying debris, bits of stone and wood caroming harmlessly off the mage's shield.

Then, as swiftly as it had begun, it ended. Like a sudden thunderclap from the heavens themselves, the very sky itself gave one, final rumble, and all went still.

Above, the Breach seemed to seethe ominously overhead, a portent of silent doom.

A sudden, sharp burst of wind blew the dirt and grit away from the epicenter of the blast. Once the dust had settled, she saw the there was surprisingly little destruction beyond a few burning embers that'd made their way past the barrier. But panic pervaded their home. Soldiers scuttled madly about, desperately trying to restore order in a world that seemed to have gone momentarily mad. Townsfolk darted this way and that, like frightened nugs, not knowing what to do.

And Sarah saw it all.

A plume of thick, black smoke arose just beyond Haven's main gate, its dark, noxious fumes beckoning almost invitingly. The Herald felt a lump of ice leap into her throat as she saw it. She turned and shook herself free in an instant, fixing Bull with a slight, nervous stare.

"Where did you say Sera and Cassandra were, again?"

Bull paled.

"Ah, crap."

Vivienne was already moving, staff crackling with sparks.

"To the gates!"

There was something else about the blast that she'd noticed, as well:

It had felt almost...

 _...alive?_

* * *

 _...COLD!"_

I know, understatement of the century, right?

 _Snow is cold._

I may be stating the obvious here, but it is!

 _"Alive. Bleeding. Hurts, it hurts..._

Well, that was my next thought when I woke to a faceful of snow, wet and freezing. My body cared for nothing else, save the fact that I was _currently freezing my balls of_ and sopping wet. That was the first and foremost item in my mind, and with that, my body jerked sluggishly back to the world of the waking and I stumbled upright. Now, I didn't claim to be extraordinarily fit or built by any means, but I was no slouch; years of running track, in high school coupled, by the occasional morning jog before college gave me enough endurance to stand. So I stood...

...and nearly collapsed when my right lef gave out beneath me.

"Motherfucking bitch whore shit _stick!"_ An involuntary string of curses leapt from my lips, nearly drowning out the agony coming from my legs. Right. Legs. Pain. Broken. Truck. Truck? TRUCK! With that, my mind finally rebooted and I remembered. Walking across a street. Horn. Noises. Truck. Crap. No time, no _time_ , no _**TIME-**_

That was the last thing I remembered.

By rights I should be dead. A red mess, all over the road. So why the hell was I here, in a snowdrift? There was no such snow in the summer! Certainly not in New York! Yet in spite of my lack of sight, each of my hands felt nothing but the white stuff whenever I reached out. In the distance I thought I heard noises. Animals? Voices? A cold, biting wind blew across my body, eliciting a fresh round of protests from my wounds.

"Alright...I'm alive." I muttered, dusting myself off. "And here. The _fuck_ is here?"

Craning my neck, I reluctantly looked up and opened my eyes.

My vision resolved itself slowly, what was left of it, that is. I was fairly certain I'd lost an eye; that, or it was swollen shut. Regardless, I eventually found myself staring at a dark, dreary sky, dashes of cerulean hidden behind curtains of grey. And there at the center of it all, circling, seeming to pull everything in like a giant maelstrom, bright and green. For what felt like a full minute I simply stared at it, trying to decipher what I was looking at, what it was, what it could be...

Huh.

Big green hole in the sky.

Wait a minute.

Big.

Green.

Hole.

In.

The.

Sky.

"Huh. Its just the Breach- _what the fuck?!"_

Panic seized me and throttled me, senselessly. I sat up as best I could in my sundered state, my vision yawing wildly as I glanced frantically about. Panic warred with indecision as I took in my surroundings; all the while it felt as though my heart was about to beat clear out of my chest. Hole in the sky? Check. Nothing but snow and mountains as far as the eye could see?! Check. No signs of civilization? Check. Good. For a moment I'd almost thought...

...aw, piss.

My heart dropped into my stomach, as I caught a flash of brown in my peripheral vision; then promptly leaped back into my throat as I turned to behold it. Somewhat distant, perhaps, but still present. I recognized the large, old stone building at the center, and even from here, I could see the banner, flapping in the breeze. A bright eye, enshrouded by flames. Now that I noticed _that_ I saw other things; such as the smoldering crater, only a few yards away, the people, rapidly gathering at the gate, the blood on my _hands..._

Even stricken as I was didn't take me long to realize where I'd landed, the sight had been burned into my mind through countless games. It was impossible to forget. I'd seen this place many times before, and so had my sister. Odd, that I'd think of her now, but I digress. Regardless, I knew what I was looking at.

 _Haven._

Despite my delirious state, my mind made the connection almost immediately. Two and two came together and I guffawed, openly. A loud, delirious laugh exploded out of my throat and I toppled over backwards, head in the snow, uncaring for the cool chill that shot up the back of my head. Yes, I was dead. Had to be. Unless...maybe it was that brownie I'd eaten? No. No way. No kind of trip could do this! This had to be a dream o-or something! Something out of a novel! I couldn't have written a better story if I'd tried!

"No fucking way...

"There's the arse-biscuit!"

I nearly laughed at the distant laugh; right before the arrow planted itself between my legs. Not so funny, after that. I felt the blood drain from my face. No no no nonononono! No arrow to the face, please! Or the knee! OR anywhere else, mind you!

 _Shing!_

In the next instant, a sword was drawn; somewhere close, too. I recognized that angry hiss of an escaping blade anywhere, and in that instant, decided I wasn't going to stick around to see who wanted to chop me up into little bloody bits.

"Shit!" I flailed bodily at the sudden attack but that only earned my a bash on the back of the head, slamming me face-first into the snow. Instinct took over. I crab-walked backwards, skittering away from my assailant as fast as my arms and ruined legs could carry me. Which was not, I might add, terribly far. I made it no more than four paces before my attacker pounced, pinning me to the drifts. Something firm and heavy settled in and on my chest, then naked steel caressed my jugular, impeding all movement.

Wisely, I stopped struggling after that.

"Identify yourself!"a thick, accented voice demanded.

I _knew_ that voice.

Despite my better judgement I turned my head to face my captor, wincing slightly as I did so.

Ah.

All stern stubborness and cheekbones, armor and grit. Eyes glittering like angry opals. Her jaw, set like stone, a firm and immovable pivot. I'd romanced the ever-loving shit out of her countless times in Dragon Age. Ah, and did I forget to mention the sword? Well, she had one. A. Sword. She had a sword. A sharp sword. A very _pointy_ sword. Currently, said sword was pointed just under my chin, ready to lop off my head at the slightest provocation. That should have been enough to make me soil myself, but I didn't; because incredibly, I knew this woman.

I was looking at Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast.

"Whoa!" my eyes cut right as a mad cackle broke the silence, followed by a red and yellow blur interposing itself over my vision. "Cuttin' right to it, eh? Didn' know you were like that, lady seeker!" A low growl from said Seeker cut the elf's vitriol short.

"Be quiet, Sera! I'm in no mood for your games!"

"Pbbbbbbbbth!" She stuck out her tongue, grinning.

"Uh, hello? Can you let me up...please? Choking, here."

The cut was sudden and fast, slicing through my blue shirt like butter, drawing blood. I hissed softly.

"Who are you?!" Cassandra demanded anew of me, pressing her blade to my throat with incredible force, trying to make me talk, no doubt. More questions rained down around me, louder than any blows. "What is you want, mage! Why have you attacked us?! Are you working for the Venatori?! Or the Lord Seeker?!"

"Mage?!" Now it was my turn to feel outrage. "Look, lady," I ground out, "I ain't no damn-

THUMP.

 _"Piss!"_ Sera jumped half a foot in the air as a nearby tree abruptly uprooted itself and jumped into the sky. I would've too, but you know, reasons. That, and the blade at my throat. Instead I stared, goggled eyed at the abrupt defiance of gravity, watching as the tree hurtled into the distance. Huh. Oh, that was new...

...mage." I finished with a deadpan. Could a mage even do that?! Don't think so! I just...thought...and it happened. So what-

When Cassandra's face swung back to meet mine, her wrath was positively apocalyptic and it drove all such thoughts out the window.

 _ **"SPEAK!"**_

Faced with such terrifying fury, I still had the gall to croak out:

"Erm...none of the above?"

Silenced reigned, heavy in its supremacy.

"The cake is a lie?" I tried in vain, offering a sheepish smile.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise.

I realized the Seeker was going to hit me, then. Her eyes hardened and her free hand drew back, knuckles clenched for what promised to be a painful roundhouse. I don't know why, but I felt the need to get in one last jibe before she punched my head in. Call it a foolish thing, but I regret nothing. If I was going out like this, I was damn near going out with style!

"Wait...wait!" I cried, throwing up my hands! "I _do_ have something to say."

Cassandra paused. I drew a deep breath and readied myself to speak.

My shit-eating grin would made Alucard proud, I think.

"Lady Seeker's got no underpants!"

"HA!"

Sera went from being outright terrified of me to _outright_ _giggling_ , and I had the sweet sight of watching Cassandra's face purple mere moments before I saw stars. Knocked me right the fuck out, she did. One hit. Out cold. Still, I had just enough time for one last thought. Dragon Age. Alive, when I should have been dead, NEEDED to be dead. Instead I was here. In Haven. Not exactly making the best start, either, mind you. Which leaves one of two explanations, really.

Either this was one HELL of a trip, or...

...I'd somehow found my way into the wonderful-and I say so with sarcasm!-world of Thedas.

 _Damn._

 **A/N: Wham, bam, and there you go! I wanted to try getting away from my Naruto-centric fics and try something a touch different. A self insert, inspired by Hypermuffins "Misadventures in Another World." Naturally this just...stuck out for me, ya know? Inquisition is a madhouse, one where you can do just about anything! So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...**

 **...Review, Would You Kindly!**

 **R &R~! =D**


	2. DOOM!

**A/N: OUCH...! Less reviews than I thought (Only six at the time of writing this Author's Note), but hey, ever onwards, eh? I'm having a blast writing this, and I thank all of you who have read, favorited, reviewed and otherwise commented on this ficlet. I welcome all ideas! There won't be a terribly long author's note this time; I only ask that you give this story a chance and tell me what you think of it. Reviews are the fuel that keep me writing, after all! As much fun as it is to write novels and fiction, it feels kind of hollow if I don't know what you, the reader(s) think of my stories in general. And now, with that being said...**

 **...of we go!**

 _"What are you?"_

 _"What do you want me to be?"_

 _"That...is NOT an answer."_

 _"Then you are not asking the proper questions, sister."_

 _~Leliana, interrogations._

 **DOOM!**

As expected, they threw me in the dungeon.

I shouldn't have been surprised really when I woke up in irons; but somehow, I still was.

They'd gone and thrown me in the deepest, darkest pit they could find, with nothing but cold stone and steel surrounding me on all sides. My legs felt like lead bricks, stiff and numb Waking to find myself chained, just like the Herald had been. Lovely. Only, unlike him/her, I didn't have any ridiculous magical mark crap to save my arse. Huh. At least I didn't have a ring of swords surrounding me. Still, I _was_ trussed up like some kind of murderer, cold-FREEZING!-and absolutely no wits about where I was.

 _'Oh, this is just going to be a joy to deal with..._

They hadn't even allowed me a change of clothes, at that! I was still clad in same faded jeans, blue shirt, and tattered jacket as before. The leather was wet and damp, against my bruised arms. My only solace was that someone had taken the courtesy of mending my legs whilst I slept, so I didn't have to deal with the supernova of broken bone burning in the back of my brain. Whomever had done the deed-probably Solas?-seemed to know enough of the healing arts to set the bone properly, at least.

That was where the good news ended.

Remarkably, they hadn't searched my person or-if they'd done so-it hadn't been very well. I could still feel the comforting weight of my cell in my right pocket, all but forgotten like the rest of my injuries. Alas, my back pack had been spirited away, as had my pocket knife, once secured in the strap on my right arm. But missing something as conspicuous as a phone? Now that was just _sloppy._

Not that it helped much, considering I was effectively shackled to the floor in the middle of the room with _iron_ chains. A sudden chill rippled through me, and against my will, I sneezed. What, I sniffed, did they expect to let me freeze to death down here, or something? Because that was a possibility! All this because I just _had_ to get in the last word against Cassandra. Did I regret it? _Hell_ no.

"Shoulda gone with the broken legs excuse, though." I groused, hissing softly at my chafed wrists as I tested the restraints. "Not that they're broken anymore...

Speaking of broken...!

My mind snapped back to the sundered tree, and frowned, stealing a glance at my hand. No mark. Unblemished skin stared back at me, utterly unchanged. Alright, that was good-right? The last thing I needed was to be a mage. Not here. Not now. Bad, bad, bad badbadbadbadBAD! My brain instinctively recoiled from the idea but try as I might I couldn't put it out of my mind; I'd ripped a massive oak from the ground with nothing but a stray _glance_ and flung it across the horizon. If that wasn't magic, then what was it?

Ah, hell. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

I hazarded a glance at my shackles.

"Erm...break?"

The chains remained resolutely solid on my limbs. I gave them an angry rattle, but no, nothing.

"Well, fuck you, too." I groused, slumping. "At least this can't get any-

 **BANG!**

As if to herald that very thought-ha!-the door crashed open with a harsh clang.

I sucked in a reflexive breath as fresh torchlight seared my eyes, squinting against the sudden luminance. The slight rustle of chainmail greeted my ears, the only sound in the otherwise lifeless room. From the distinct lack of footsteps and other noise, I immediately estimated it to be a rogue. Even so, I wasn't entirely ready for the shadows to lift and reveal the torchbearer herself.

 _Leliana._

"You know why I am here, no?" her soft, accented voice carried with it a gentle, almost subtle menace, one that Cassandra could never hope to convey outside of combat. The Seeker was a warrior, war was her craft. I knew that. Understood it, even. But Leliana, I knew even better and I knew she could be an absolute _terror_ to her enemies. Or those who stood in her way. Which, in this case, would be me. Right. The guy who dropped out of the sky and blew a crater in Haven.

 _Piss._

My eyes flicked down to the knife in her hand, then back to her face as she set the torch aside and locked the door behind her. I Saw the dead look there as she approached. I knew it. I'd seen it in the eyes of my older brother too many times to forget. That's one can of worms I'm not opening again! Fuck fiction, I _knew_ where this shit was going!

 _Double piss!_

Funny how fright can make your mind shut down. I knew from reading proper self inserts that panic was _not_ something you wanted to do. Show her even the tiniest glimmer of fear and she'd carve you into little pieces, hardened or not. Besides, I possessed the one thing she lacked; a near intimate knowledge of Thedas and its workings. Yes, I admit to being a ridiculous lore nerd, and an absolute, total completionist. I'd played Dragon Age Origins and even that blighted piece of crap known as Dragon Age II a dozen different ways before starting Inquisition.

I dare say I knew near as much-if not more-about the former sister than she did herself.

And as such, I knew which buttons to press. Doing so now probably wouldn't help matters any, though...

"Ah, and the lovely Leliana graces me with her presence." I tilted my head deferentially, trying to radiate a confidence I didn't quite feel. "Look, there's no need for the knife, so if you could just put that away? There's no need for-

 _Thunk._

The blood drained from my face as the knife slammed home into the wall beside me. The _stone_ wall I might add. I jerked back, ashen. What was it with rogues and throwing things?! By the time I thought to look again, she already had yet another in her hand, drawn and ready.

"No games," her voice hummed, thrumming with menace. "You _will_ talk. Or I will make you talk."

Ah. A hardened Leliana, then.

Lovely.

"You want to talk?" I bristled, grappling with the knot of fear in my gut, "Fine, we'll talk all you want. Tell me, then," It took absolutely everything I had to force down the rising tide of my own fears, push a smile to my face instead, "How _is_ Marjolaine these days? Still dead and rotting in the ground?" I'd meant the words to be light, almost in jest, but the pain turned them to a snarl, making them coarse and rough. Yup. That was it. I was convinced I was going to die, gutted like a pig in recompense for my temerity.

Thankfully, my unintentional jibe at the former sister succeeded where I'd never intended it to.

 _"What?"_

Her slow, sinister stride faltered abruptly, the steely look in her eyes guttering out, a candle in a strong wind. Gotta hand it to her though, she recovered quickly. It was only a moment, but it was enough. Weakness. I saw it and clutched at the opportunity, knowing full well any sign of cowardice -or even duplicity- on my part would only make my torment that much more painful. My only hope was to throw her off her game and try my damndest to keep her there, to prevent her from thinking clearly.

Somehow, my mouth had enough sense to rally, even if the rest of me didn't.

"What would she say if she saw you like this?" I challenged, drawing myself up haughtily. "Here you are, ready to torture an innocent man, and for what?" a genuine note of real anger crept into my voice as she began to fiddle with the knife in her hands. "Because you're so bloody impatient! Chosen by the Maker, ha! Well, you can take your Maker and shove-

Unforutnately, these words tipped the scales from inaction to action.

In a heartbeat the rogue lunged forward and struck me-not as hard as Cassandra mind you, but enough to loosen a tooth. In the next instant her arm snaked forward and seized a fistful my hair, jerking my head up to expose my throat. In the span of two beats, she'd moved with a speed and grace that would've made an olympic runner green with envy. For not the first time, I felt cold steel thrust itself up against my neck, but when I met the sister's gaze, the fire in her eyes was ice, pure and jagged and cold.

Perhaps for the first time since finding myself in Thedas, I felt a touch of fear. If this Leliana _was_ hardened, she'd probably slit my throat if I pushed too hard. But if I didn't push...

"How do you know of these things?!" she demanded.

Despite my ever-mounting terror, I managed a laugh. Well, time to take the ball and run with it...hopefully without further pain on my part.

"By watching. I've been watching everyone, everything, for quite some time now."

"Your agents-

"I have no agents." this brought her up short. "I simply watch. Alter. Change."

"Believe it or not, I know a great many things, and not just about you." I continued quietly as I steepled my fingers, desperately trying to quell the storm in my stomach, to ignore the impending threat of pain upon my person for the second time that day. "I could even give you a lecture on the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall, if you'd like. Charming lad, that one. Her? Just as much." If memory served, I'd gone with the witty, sarcastic path for both of them...

"Words." she scowled, drawing closer. "If you think to deceive me-

I wasn't quite sure what made me snap at her the way I did, only that it happened.

"He was the champion's cousin. A mage." I bared my teeth in a rictus of a grin. "He stole your heart, then left you for the witch. Betrayed you. Broke your heart. Proof enough for you?" In that instant as the words leapt from my lips, a very real glimmer of pain flashed through the spymaster's eyes. She doused it quickly, but I still saw it. Despite my own words, I felt a thorn of remorse prick my heart.

Ouch.

That was a low blow, and I knew it the moment the words left my mouth. But in the same vein, it confirmed my suspicions. This WAS the same game I'd played. Good.

...also? Very bad.

"...!"

Before my eyes the Spymaster actually paled, her creme-colored skin taking on an almost pallid hue. In an instant, the knife left my throat. Moments later she released me with a shout. More like threw. For someone so slight, she'd built up quite a bit of strength over the years; a single toss launched me across the room. Distantly, I felt the chains snap taut against my limbs, smashing me into the ground with all the force of a hammer blow. sledgehammer.

Over the distant ringing in my ears, I heard her curse in Orlesian. Huh, I thought hazily. Pretty words. Nasty words...

"I...apologize." I croaked, groaning. "That went a little too far."

"What are you?!" Words cracked like whips at me; I raised my gaze as she threw down her own knife in despair. Jaded eyes snapped back towards me, cuttingly. Assessing. "A spirit? A demon? Venatori?"

"No, no, and no." I paused. "Wait. What do you want me to be?"

"That...is NOT an answer."

"Then you are not asking the proper questions, sister."

She bristled anew, lips pursed into a thin line.

"A scholar, then."

 _"No."_

"Surely you don't claim to be the Maker?!"

I sputtered out a laugh; because in a sense, I was. Not _the_ Maker in this world, obviously, but in a way, I had helped to shape it. My actions and decisions, reflected through the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall had helped to shape this world. If the Maker even existed at all, I was a close second, at best. In the end, I offered a wan smile and shrugged.

"Close enough."

"..."

"See?" I rubbed at my wrists, "Words are so much better, don't you agree, sister? No need for knives and violence." Well, damn. This shit was actually working. Was _this_ what Solas did? How he felt? Acting all high and mighty-knowing almost everything there is to know? It seemed to work fairly well for me considering my throat was on the line, here. The redhead glared bloody red daggers at me, but, she did not advance. She stood there for a long, horrible moment, her face carefully blank, fingers twitching angrily.

Honestly, I expected her to kill me, then.

Instead she spun on her heel, snatched up the knives and slammed the door in my face with a resounding WHAM of sound; her departure so abrupt I couldn't even find words for it. The sound echoed out after her and I started, open-mouthed.

At that moment, I realized something.

I was starving...

...and I'd just driven away the only person who could do something about it.

"HEY! Wait a second! You're not just going to leave me here, are you?!"

My eyes bores an angry red hole into the door, willing it to fall. When it did not, I slumped, spitting.

 _"Shit."_

* * *

Leliana slumped against the wall and fought down angry tears.

The prisoner had shaken her.

Shaken!

Her!

He'd known things that no one should know, personal, intimate details of her life she'd told to...no one. Not since the Hero of Ferelden. Bastard that he was. But _he_ had known more. So how, how by the Maker, did this stranger know so much about her? So many things!

"Rough day?"

She nearly started as a light voice greeted her ears; in the next, a large shape brushed past her. She caught a fleeting glimpse of horns and deep, forest green eyes in the dark before the qunari stepped around her, the hallway almost too narrow to accomodate the two of them. But she recognized her in an instant, regardless. What she failed to understand, was the tray in her hands.

"Herald! What're you going to do?"

Laughter echoed after her.

"I'm going to give the poor man his supper."

...why does that make me feel ill at ease?"

* * *

When the door swung open this time, I wasn't entirely prepared.

The last inquisitor I recalled creating had been a male elf.

This was no elf.

She was every bit qunari, and emphatically female. Dark eyes and ebon hair, a calm, staid boldness to every move she made. Dark armor, a sword at her hip, shield at her back.

"So." she started slowly, sitting across from me. "Leliana tells me you're being difficult." A tray of food thrust itself out at me from her hands, clattering at me feet. "Feel like talking, now?" I eyed the thin soup and loaf of bread warily, not certain of what to say. In the end, my resistance wilted like a cat in water.

I swallowed thickly.

...nice to meet you?"

"Eat first. Then Talk."

I am ashamed to admit that I did.

 **A/N: Wham, bam, and there you go! I wanted to try getting away from my Naruto-centric fics and try something a touch different. A self insert, inspired by Hypermuffins "Misadventures in Another World." Naturally this just...stuck out for me, ya know? Inquisition is a madhouse, one where you can do just about anything! So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...**

 **...Review, Would You Kindly!**

 **R &R~! =D**


	3. Maker I am Not

**A/N: WAZZUP?! I'm back!**

 **JUST GOT THE NEW FALLOUT DLC! SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much fun! Well, that's my opinion of it, at least XD**

 **Also...OUCH...! Less reviews than I thought (Only a few at the time of writing this Author's Note), but hey, ever onwards, eh? I'm having a blast writing this, and I thank all of you who have read, favorited, reviewed and otherwise commented on this ficlet. I welcome all ideas! There won't be a terribly long author's note this time; I only ask that you give this story a chance and tell me what you think of it. Reviews are the fuel that keep me writing, after all! As much fun as it is to write novels and fiction, it feels kind of hollow if I don't know what you, the reader(s) think of my stories in general. And now, with that being said...**

 **...of we go! Also, good news! I'm working on the next chapter of Die Another Day even as you read this! =D**

 _"NOPE!"_

 _...did he...just...?!"_

 _"Bahahaha! I love this guy!"_

 _~Party, reactions._

 **Maker I am Not**

I sang like a bloody canary, alright.

Just not the tune that Adaar expected me to sing.

What?

Why are you making that face? Don't think I don't see it!

You're wondering why I didn't keep my trap shut? Seriously?! Have you ever tried saying NO to a qunari warrior? HAVE YOU?! That's like punching six feet of NOPE in the face and running away with your legs chopped off! Not a good idea! Not a good idea by any means! I can write myself in and out of a corner, stop wars, even move nations with words, but I was NOT talking glib with a walking fortification who could crush me with a blink! In my mind, it was far better to invent a fantastical story about me being on her side rather than be misconstrued as someone who meant her harm.

I had no doubts about the damage those hands could inflict on me if they were so inclined.

Add to that the fact that I was _locked_ _in the room with her_ and well, lets just say things deteriorated very quickly. I've always had an irrational fear of the horny-ha!-bastards, and talking to Sarah put that fear _riiiiiiiiight_ back in me, good and proper! I shouldn't have been surprised really; a silver tongue like hers was dangerous. Couldn't tell her the truth without messing this world up, but something close would do...right? Anything, so long as it made a reasonable modicum of sense.

"So," I began dryly once I'd finished my drink and meal, "What do you want to know?"

"Introductions, first." the Inquisitor corrected me with a stern look. "You may call me Herah. And you are...

...wondering when you're going to release me, Herald of Andraste." I finished flatly.

Her lips pursed into a thin line of amusement.

"My reputation precedes me, I see."

"Its a lovely title."

"Fair enough."

Say what you will about conventional Qunari, but Herah Adaar wasn't one of them. Instead of pressing her brief advantage, she closed her eyes, leaned back, and inhaled slowly. I shifted uneasily, uncertain of what she was planning. Was she meditating? Or simply gathering herself up to slay me? I couldn't be sure, and I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to find out. At length however, those eerie green eyes opened, their expression stern and sharper than the shores of the Storm Coast.

Perhaps she thought she had me pegged.

How little she knew.

"Cassandra thinks you a Venatori mage." she said at last. "Or a demon of some sort."

I couldn't help myself; I snorted.

"I'm no mage!" the chains rattled as I shook my wrists. "If I were, I'd be free by now. I'm certainly not a demon."

"Leliana told me you claim to be the Maker himself." her tone told me all I needed to know, she didn't believe that; not one bit.

Ah.

So that conversation was going to come back and bite me after all. I could see how the rogue would make such a connection, even if she didn't believe it herself. I hadn't intended to hurt her with my words when she'd come at me, but I'd had no choice. It was either throw her off balance, or experience the most wicked bout of Orlesian torture. _Urgh._ My neck throbbed in an painful reminder. I'd rather perpetuate the confusion rather than risk going back under that knife again.

In the end I offered a mute shrug.

"She says so."

"A demon would claim as much, you know." the qunari pointed out, carefully observing me for my reaction. "After all, how do you explain what you did at the gates of Haven?"

A grimaced tugged at the corners of my mouth. "That was...an accident."

"So you admit you're a mage."

"I am not!" My face colored fiercely. "How many times must I repeat myself?!"

"Yet what you did was clearly magic." a wry grin danced at the corners of her mouth. Damned woman! Was she enjoying this?!

I regret to say that my infamous, surly temper got the better of me, then.

"Have one of your Templars hit me with a Smite, then." I challenged and immediately grimaced inwardly; regretting the words the moment they left my mouth. But it was too late to snatch them back by then, and I was far too angry to care, so in lieu of good reason I pressed on with a newfound courage I didn't quite trust. "Better yet-call Cullen!" The words were an absolute hiss. "I'm sure he'd like it. He's probably just _itching_ to get back at a mage after Corypheus nuked the conclave, maybe even an excuse to take Lyrium again-

WHAM!

 _"What was that you just said?!"_

I realized my mistake in the same instant that the door crashed open. It took everything I had not to start as hardened wood collided against the wall with a mighty clang to reveal the man himself standing within. That was all my eyes saw before naked steel flashed before them. In hindsight, I should've realized he wasn't going to stab me. Only threaten me and try to procure answers. Try telling that to my frazzled mind. One look at that blade-that very, very large blade-with its owner advancing on me and my eyes went white.

Literally.

 _Clang!_

The ex-templar hissed in surprise as something ripped the sword from his hand and shattered it like glass, sending a series of keening shards skittering to the floor at my feet. I'm sure the look on absolute bafflement on his face mirrored my own. Well. I'd somehow Apparently my little stunt had the added effect of knocking Herah back on her ass; because she was only just rising to her feet when Cullen flung his arms out and took a familiar, chilling stance, head tilted for the ceiling.

Shit.

"Cullen, don't!" she snapped.

Too late.

Ever been struck by a Templar's Smite before, kiddies? Its not fun. I speak from experience. Mage or no, it basically comes down to your will against the will of the one doing the smiting. Like a wave of invisible force crashing down on my shoulders I felt my body buckle and bow against it, unable to do anything more than remain prone and endure. I could only grit my teeth and ride it out, praying that the massive, crushing presence would abate before I blacked out or worse.

To my infinite surprise, I succeeded.

Not only did I _not_ die a gruesome death, I actually felt rather...refreshed afterward. Energized. As if I'd somehow siphoned off the "holy" smite. Impossible, I know, and I certainly thought so. Everything I'd read and seen pertaining to the unpleasant ability said otherwise. Yet here I was, brimming with energy. Just what the hell had happened to me?

"Satisfied?" I hissed.

Cullen glared bloody red daggers at me, but he didn't come the rest of the way into my cell.

Not yet.

Evidently what he'd just witnessed had given him quite a fright; for he held up his shield as though he expected me to somehow shatter him, too. When I didn't-not that I would, mind you!-he dared to scrape a step into my quarters, then another and finally _another_ until he'd made it to Herah's side without me calling down another burst of shattering might down upon him. The entire time, the Herald hadn't taken her gaze off of me, as if she feared I would suddenly dissolve into smoke where she to look away.

From the way my hand was shimmering, I suppose she half-expected me to.

"Cullen?"

"That...that was no magic I've ever seen." the former Knight-Captain said after a long moment, his blank vsiage yielding at last to the Herald's insistent, questing gaze. "There wasn't any mana...bloody hell." he paused, swallowing thickly. "Maker, I don't know _what_ that was." My brief flash of triumph guttered out like a windswept candle at those words. So what I'd done wasn't magic after all? Huh. Neat. I had to physically force myself not to spit at her then, merely tilt my head in what she no doubt assumed was humble curiosity.

"Apology accepted." I offered an arch smile. "Perhaps we should start over and be friends now?"

Herah's blade was at my throat nearly before I'd finished speaking. As was Cullen's.

"What are you, demon?!" the man demanded!

"I'm not a demon." I answered with all the righteous indignation I could muster. "I'm just me. Would you kindly be quiet, blondie?"

To his own credit the commander of the Inquisitions armies didn't gut me on the spot for my _-well provoked!_ -verbal jab, but his expression put paid to what he must've been feeling. Ah. It all made sense now. He must've been listening, or standing guard in case I proved a threat. Herah had never once turned her gaze from mine, but when I turned back to look at her, that good humor was long dead, replaced by a look of hardened steel. Whatever odd doubts and misconceptions I'd strewn before her were suddenly forgotten as she zeroed in on the named I'd just dropped.

Well, shit.

"That name...what did you say earlier?" she asked me in a voice like iron from ice.

Oh, bugger me! I'd really stepped in it this time.

I just had to say it; one look at the soon-to-be Inquisitor told me she had no idea who Corypheus was-at least not yet. Which meant, by deduction, that she hadn't gone to save the mages or templars yet. I might have just doomed hundreds-if not thousands-of lives by revealing this information so soon. What changes might be wrought. None at all. Or many. More than I could possibly count. I could ruin everything.

But how many lives could I _save?_

"His name is...Corypheus." The words dragged themselves out of me before I could think to stop them and from there the floodgates opened wide as my tongue hastened to relieve itself of its burden. "You know, that darkspawn?" I drew myself up, forcing both warriors to move their weapons or risk a blade taking me low in the gut by way of hesitation. "Ancient Tevinter Magister who tore open the veil? Bent on world domination? Wants the Anchor? That mark on your hand? Seriously? You haven't heard of this?"

For a single, glorious moment, there was silence in the dungeon.

Then all hell broke loose.

"WHAT?!"

The combined, outraged cry of both human and qunari seemed to shake the very stones themselves. I winced softly, my ears ringing spectacularly, and it was several minutes before I could hear enough to understand what was transpiring before me. Whatever it was, it had Herah pushing Cullen back through the door, much to the former Templar's consternation. But the man's might was no match for the Qunari; she had him out of the cell by the time my eardrums recovered enough to make out anything beyond the piercing ringing.

-OUT!" Herah was shouting at the blond's rapidly retreating back as my hearing briefly swung back, "Tell Cassandra what you've heard. I'll finish with the prisoner."

"But, Herald-

 _"Alone!"_

My ears barely registered the door being slammed, the sound emerged as a dull, distant _thud_ of a sound. The Herald must've put a fair bit of strength behind it; because the hinges rattled mightily, enough to physically shake the wooden frame. Nor did I for that matter, hear whatever vitriol she spewed when she turned to face me. For that, I was suddenly and _immensely_ grateful for said deafness. Thankfully, a few more moments of stunned silence on my part proved enough to sway the horned warrior to rationality once more.

"Here, drink this." a potion was forced to my lips, much to my annoyance. "It should help."

I swallowed thickly, grimacing as a rather nasty taste flowed down my throat. Let it never be said that they tasted good! Gagging, I forced it down, wincing as an angry 'pop' resounded somewhere near the back of my head. Sure enough, my hearing returned not a moment later. One look at Herah's stoic visage nearly made me wish it hadn't.

"Sit." this one was not a request, it was a command.

One I obeyed.

"We're going to start over." her tone brooked no argument as she adopted a cross-legged position opposite me. "From the beginning."

 _"Lovely."_ My hand found my face almost without me even registering the action, "Look. I didn't ask to be here. I didn't even want to be here. I'd had enough with you lot _way_ before this shit started. I fell through that bloody hole in the sky and then _your_ people took it upon themselves to beat me bloody. I told Leliana this before you came." I expected a rebuttal of some sort, an attempt to defend Cassandra's vicious-rightfully so, I suppose-assault on my personage.

I was wholly unprepared for the laughter that followed.

Not a short, nasty bark, but a simple, musical chuckle, one that startled me wholly. Herah leaned back, placing one gigantic arm-an arm that could crush my throat with a twitch!-and looked me over with what I secretly suspected was a modicum of shared respect.

"Were you beaten before o _r after_ the breeches remark?"

"Who told you?! It was Sera, wasn't it? No, no, of course it was...

"Was it worth it?"

 _"Definitely."_

"Perhaps I should let her have a word with you...?"

My grin shattered like so much glass.

"You know, I liked your spymaster better." the groan was equal parts exasperation and annoyance. "At least she didn't beat around the bush."

"Oh?" I had to give it to her, Herah was sharp. She seized on that part like an angry varren. "How did you know she was our spymaster?"

"I know many things. Secrets that'd make your stiff-toed templar blush with embarrassment."

"Speaking of Cullen, how do you know he was behind the door in the first place?" she asked, her curiosity beginning to overtake her amusement.

Crap. I _hadn't_ known Cullen was listening before. Lucky guess?

"I've already told you." I studiously schooled my expression back into nothingness. "I know many secrets." I repeated flatly, valiantly mustering up my courage in the face of her scowl. "Secrets in the past, tales in the present, knowledge of the future. Try me."

"How 'bout mine?"

"Fine." No harm in telling her that much, at least. Might as well keep playing the hand I'd been dealt. "Haven will be attacked once you've allied with either the mages or Templars. Oh, and before you ask, yes you lose. Badly. From there, you will eventually become the Inquisitor and rule from a castle that touches the sky. Such shall be its name. Skyhold. I could go on, but where's the fun in that?"

The Inquisitor gaped.

"You must have quite the network."

I didn't need to disguise my annoyance this time. "I have no spies, nor do I need any. At this point? I really don't care whether you believe me or not." That much was true. I was tired. I was so damnably _tired_ of having to prove a point to those who, by right, were technically little more than fiction. A fiction I was now a part of. Meaning that my lack of care was as likely to get me killed as the next bloke.

Bugger me.

"I believe you."

"Look, how long are we go-wait, you do?"

"Yes." Adaar said after a long, solemn moment before rising in a single fluid movement. "Either you're lying to me and _you're_ responsible for this mess," a grey hand reached over her shoulder, adjusting something on her back, "in which case you'll be hanged," when I didn't react-I dare not!-she continued sternly, "Or you're telling the truth and this is all a massive misunderstanding and this Corypheus fellow is to blame. Regardless, its not for me to decide by myself, even if you don't seem the murdering sort. Now perhaps you can tell me what this...is?"

My gaze cut to her hand as it reappeared over her shoulder, I recognized the beaten backpack she held dead away.

That was before; my eyes bucked when I saw what was within.

My phone!

It was in my hands instantaneously; I didn't even remember picking it up. Battered and beaten but unbroken, it miraculously still held some semblance of a charge. Enough to light up at my touch, at any rate.

"It was like this when we found it." she declared. "Care to elaborate?"

"What do you-oh."

I looked down; even then, I still felt it. Completely and intensely aware of the qunari's gaze upon me, burning like a brand. Even then I couldn't bring my eyes to reconcile what I was looking at. The buttons themselves _seemed_ responsive, but try as I might I couldn't get the image to move. Instead I stared at the simple text, baffled at the words scrawled across the screen:

 ** _WHERE IS YOUR GOD?_**

My finger tapped the I-Phone in annoyance, only to watch the eerie message flicker and dissipate before my very eyes. Whatever strange glitch/malfunction that had befallen it seemed to have vanished. Idly, I scrolled through, but of the message there was still no sign. Miraculously everything stood intact, my contacts, countless pictures I'd taken or catalogued, even the odd Game of Thrones episode I'd downloaded on a whim. As amusing as showing a qunari what Westeros was lie, I chose to switchthe device off before I could be bombarded with further questions.

"Well?" Herah offered. "Do you you have an answer to...whatever that is?"

I didn't even have a dignified response to those words. If I'd tried, I'm sure it would've emerged as little more than gibberish.

 _What the hell had I stepped into this time?_

"Any chance I could get a bit of fresh air?"

I'd said the words in spite.

As such, I was wholly unprepared for what came next.

Abruptly Herah drew her blade!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

"Can we talk about this?!" Heedless of my cry she sliced down in a single, smooth motion...

...and shattered the manacles binding my wrists.

My eyes bulged and I stared at said wrists in stupefaction.

"Just like that?"

This time, the qunari's smile was almost genuine.

"Just like that." she gave an absent tug on one of my manacles, pulling it free. "Though I should warn you...

"Warn me of what?"

For a moment I thought she was going to answer but no, at length, she grinned ruefully and shook her head.

"On second thought? Never mind. You'll see for yourself."

 _'Bad feeling about this. I have a very baaaaad feeling about this.'_

I watched and absently rubbed my freed wrists, incredulous as she fished the keys out of her belt and strode to the door. Within moments it was unlocked, revealing a rather startled soldier standing guard from without. The helmeted man stood to attention at the sight of the Herald and stepped aside to make way. Warily, I followed, half-expecting a spew of vitriol of worse from the jailer. After all, I'd fallen out of the sky and torched a fair bit of Haven merely by landing, hell, I'd probably killed a few people...

Imagine my _immense_ surprise when the guard dropped to a knee and prostrated himself on the floor right in front of me! I'm not kidding! The fool got down on his hands and knees, ripped off his helmet and started to grovel! By the look of him he seemed to regard me with something akin to awe. That, I didn't understand.

At.

 _All!_

"Have mercy on me, Maker!" he cried! "I am not worthy to stand in your gaze!"

I blinked slowly.

...ha?"

Herah grinned ruefully.

"Remember that warning I mentioned?"

"..."

"This is part of it."

All I managed was another dumbfounded blink.

 _These bloody fools thought I was the Maker?!_

 _ **A/N: Wham, bam, and there you go! I wanted to try getting away from my Naruto-centric fics and try something a touch different. A self insert, inspired by Hypermuffins "Misadventures in Another World." Naturally this just...stuck out for me, ya know? Inquisition is a madhouse, one where you can do just about anything! So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...**_

 **...Review, Would You Kindly! And of course, enjoy the previews!**

 **(Previews!)**

 _"Oh sure, you let the shem go, but not me?!"_

 _"Have some respect, knife-ear!" the guard barked. "You're in the presence of divinity!"_

 _"Look, I'm really not-_

 _"But why?!"_

 _Herah scoffed, the sound short and sharp in the confined quarters._

 _"Because the shem didn't kill three templars."_

 _I turned, frowning, peering into the dark._

 _Lavellan._

 _I knew her face at a glance; recognized sky-blue eyes and deep, rust-red hair framing a small, heart-shaped face. An expression of confused outraged twisted my face before I could bury it. Burn it, step on it, beat it to bits with a shovel, bury it, then cover it with concrete until I couldn't remember what it was._

 _This made no sense._

 _Nope._

 _None at all._

 _Reality-or what amounted to it here-had just gone tits up on me. By rights, I, who had no right to be here in the first place, must've been losing my mind. Alas, I was painfully sane, and the scowling visage staring back at me from beyond the bars was all too real._

 _"Um..._

 _My hand touched the bar to her cell, finger-tips brushing the rusting iron gingerly, carfully. A mistake, that, and a massive one to boot. All at once my hand clamped down of its own accord and a fire ignited in the back of my skull. Sensations rioted in my mind with a feather's brush; tickling my senses. Suddenly I wasn't me anymore. I was someone else, seeing someone else, feeling everything they felt. Impressions didn't just brush me now, they flat out assaulted my psyche in a tidal wave of wrongness, a sense of being so alien to my own that I nearly vomitted._

 _Tired._

 _Hungry._

 _Guts gripping, cold in the dark. Lonely._

 _Why am I locked up? It was self defense!  
_

 _I don't want to die here!_

 _Coupled with a powerful yearning._

 _I drew my hand back with a hiss, realizing too late what I had done, I'd crushed it; like it was made of tinfoil. Inwardly, I balked. I was no slouch back home, but I'd never been able to fold metal bars like that! That I'd even do so at all came as something of a shock to me!_

 _Before I could live to regret my actions my mind reach a conclusion and_

 _To my amazement-and amusement-they snapped in twine._

 _Brilliant, sky blue eyes flashed up at me, warm with gratitude._

 _"Huh. Never seen a shem do that before."_

 _"Whatever you say, shem."_

 _"Again with the shem! You don't see me calling you a knife-ear, do ya?!"_

 _Ohhhh this just got all kinds of complicated..._

* * *

 _"Darling, what you're saying is simply impo-_

 _My fingers twitched of their own accord._

 _Say what you will about Vivienne, she hid hishersurprise well. But even I could see the spark of surprise that danced through those dark eyes when her staff ripped itself out of her hand and flew into mine. I handed it back happily, smiling._

 _"Maker!" she exclaimed!_

 _"Yes?"_

 **R &R~! =D**


End file.
